My New Master

Timothy Bishop
5 mins read
Published about 2 years ago

It was a warm day in July. Standing along a harborfront near the ferry terminal in a light blue polo shirt, a pair of tan shorts that hugged me just slightly and Birkenstock sandals on my feet, I might have looked like any other twenty-two-year-old gay man waiting for someone on a summer night. 

I looked out at the Atlantic Ocean and appreciated the vast beauty along with the good fortune that had come my way. After months of severe despair, I looked forward to the coming weeks and months. I looked forward to my upcoming internship at a reputable publishing house. Most of all, I looked forward to the arrival of a certain man. 

The man was named Dragan Popovic. He was a well-known writer in the area and had come from Serbia in his late twenties. He had dark hair with an emerging silver presence, which gave him a distinguished and sophisticated look. He had a slender, toned form that made me wonder what he looked like with his clothes off and I hoped I would get to see him that way soon. 

My heart skipped a beat when I saw him come around the corner. 

He wore a light blue button-down shirt and capri style pants. On his shapely feet were a pair of Chuck Taylor Converse and his piano player’s hands instilled a further curiosity in me as to how he might play me if I ever to get to see him naked.  

I took another look at the horizon as I imagined what passion he would bring me but had to block it out of my mind as he approached. 

“How are you, lovely lad?” he asked as he came up behind me.

 When I turned to face him, Dragan leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Exhilarated by his presence, I led us towards the ferry, asking him how his day had been as we boarded the boat. He smiled and said he had wished he could have spent it with me in the sunshine thinking of story ideas. 

It was our fourth evening spending time together, yet I still couldn’t believe he was interested in me.  

We climbed to the upper level of the ferry. I moved in the direction of a section with several families and dogs, but Dragan touched my elbow to get my attention and placed his hand on my lower back, guiding me towards a more private part of the deck.

“Oh James, I wish I had the chance to show you the draft of the book I’m working on,” he said. “It’s a collection of essays on queer Shakespeare and the cover design is just stupendous.” 

“That would be lovely,” I exclaimed as the ferry pulled out of the dock and chugged towards the other side of the harbor. “I wrote some essays on queer Shakespeare for my honors thesis.” 

“I’ll need to give you a copy of the book once it’s published then.” 

He took my hand and gave it a squeeze as we looked out towards the several islands in the harbor. I couldn’t believe it: Am I, James MacMaster, really holding hands with a silver fox while staring out into this beautiful ocean right now? 

I had just graduated from university, and I marveled over how Dragan could have been my professor had I gone to the university he was appointed at. When I’d left Ontario behind two months earlier, I doubted I would ever find someone special again. But here I was: soaking up the warmth of this man and the day. 

As the boat completed its journey across the harbor, Dragan rose and I rose with him. Our hands separated as we joined the nearby families in the line to descend off the boat. 

Once we had disembarked, we walked along a trail that took us along this new, undiscovered side of the harbor and Dragan gently took my hand again. We stopped at a bench that overlooked the journey we had just taken and he put his arm around me. I was still afraid of being affectionate with a man in public then, let alone with a man so much older than me. At the same time, I was tingling at the taboo of it all and the idea of someone catching me, a young man--who looked even younger than his years--being touched by a man like Dragan in public got me excited beyond words. 

‘So, James,” he began, pulling me back to him. I looked up at him, alarmed that he'd noticed how drawn into my daydream I'd become. I must have looked startled too because he laughed reassuringly. When I relaxed, he took a long look at me and leaned in for an even longer kiss. 

He had never kissed me before. But in that moment, I lost myself so deeply in his passionate embrace that it felt like we had always been there. 

Dragan reached over to move his arms down my torso, to my lower back, my hips, sending sparks all through my body. When he pulled away, he looked at me both affectionately and as though he might just undress me right then and there. I felt my cock grow hard at the idea and wondered if he noticed my growing interest. 

“I meet so many young men,” Dragan began, his blue-green eyes leaning into mine. “I’m always hearing boys your age asking for extensions, needing reference letters, freaking out about deadlines. They’re more like boys while you,” he said eyeing my crotch, “are so much more of a man.” 

I could feel myself blushing again. Dragan laugh was low and rumbling as grazed his hand over my thigh. He leaned in to kiss me again, a kiss even more passionate and charged than the last. 

“You’re so sweet,” I managed to say when our locked lips finally broke apart. Dragan slid his arm around my side, giving my hip a squeeze. “And…” I hesitated momentarily to finish the sentence before blurting out, “You’re really sexy.” 

Dragan laughed at this too and ruffled my hair with his other hand. 

“Before we started seeing each other, did you meet anyone else?” he asked. “Don’t worry, I won’t be jealous,” he added quickly. I could tell he was sincere; that he even found the idea of me with another man an attractive one. 

“Well… yes,” I said. “There were two… A very muscular latino man whose husband was here for a conference,” I continued with more confidence. “And a boy from around here who had a foot fetish.” 

Dragan’s eyes widened. I was succeeding in arousing him. “A foot fetish? How did you feel about that?” he asked. 

“I honestly really liked it,” I admitted. My interest, along with my cock, grew at the memory of my time with that boy. Dragan was still stroking my thigh, getting closer and closer to my crotch and said, “James, I actually have a bit of a foot fetish myself.” He stroked his foot over mine. “And you have very tantalizing feet.” 

I could feel myself blushing more. 

“What else do you like?” Dragan asked. 

“I like... guys in sexy underwear... and the thought of having someone use butt plugs on me, I said, already imagining him entering me, either with his cock or with any toys he might wish to use on a boy like me. 

“Ooh… Underwear and butt plugs… These are good ideas for presents,” said Dragan. 

I envisioned him undressing me and then having his way with me with his toys, caught up in the thought of him stripping me down and putting a sexy jockstrap over my eager cock.

“What do you like?” I asked, pulling myself from my fantasy.

Dragan didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me again. I could feel his hot breath on my neck. “Why don’t I show you?” he said. 


In what felt like moments, we were back at his place. It was a condo building located right downtown, with an elegant fountain in the courtyard. Dragan opened the building door and led me through the lobby to the elevator. Once inside, he looked at me right in the eye and spun us around until we both faced the doorway. He wrapped his arms around me from behind as the doors slid shut and we rose up together. 

I leaned back into the soft, warm comfort of his form, our slender figures intertwined and reflecting in the mirrored ceiling of the elevator. Although we hadn’t quite arrived at our more private destination yet, I felt Dragan’s member through his trousers, pressing against me. He leaned in and smelt my neck, kissing down the length of it. I giggled and blushed. Though I turned an even deeper shade of pink when suddenly the door opened and I was face to face with a portly older man waiting to board the elevator. Wearing a wedding ring from a woman he’d probably been with his entire life, this man looked at me with wide, wondering eyes. I felt inclined to pull away, but Dragan wouldn’t let me go. 

“Good evening, Phillip,” he said politely, holding me at the waist all the while. 

“Good evening, Dragan,” said the older gentleman. 

This man Phillip stood next to us, looking at me from the corner of his eye, but I couldn’t tell if he was judging me. Maybe he wondered if I was one of Dragan’s young employees seeking a promotion, or a student hoping to work their way to a better grade. Either way, here was Dragan, a man not that much more junior than Phillip himself, affectionately holding a man in his early twenties. 

As the elevator continued to pull us upward, it was clear that Dragan was no threat to him. Phillip’s stoicism seemed to convey a quiet admiration of how Dragan could win such a pretty young prize and even he could recognize Dragan's evert power, his fit form, and his intelligence that could command any room. I felt Phillip bow down to the alpha in the room and I felt honored to be the prize of that alpha. Dragan hugged me even tighter and Phillip smiled at him. 

Finally, the door opened to Dragan’s floor. The two men said goodnight and Dragan led me to door 4442. Everything I’d dreamt of was about to come true.

When he opened the door, I stepped inside and was taken aback by the high ceilings, the sweeping balcony, and the collection of expensive artwork. 

Dragan shut the door behind him while I gaped. He came up behind me, immediately sweeping me up into his arms and in the intimacy of his home, we kissed in a way that was much hungrier than before. Our upper lips connected, then he began to suck on my lower one. We began to duel with our tongues, feeling the electricity surge between us. All the while, even though our clothes remained on, I could feel his nipples and cock grow harder and harder against me. 

When we finally broke contact, Dragan looked me up and down. “Let’s go to bed, lad,” he said softly.

He led me by the hand to a large room with a walk-in closet and a queen-sized bed. He was clearly a master decorator and his walls had bookshelves with many titles that intrigued me. However, I was not at his house that night to be his intern. 

Dragan climbed up on the bed first. I waited for his permission, only following him when he beckoned me over. 

I leaned into his chest and he kissed me while sliding his hands up my shirt and explored my torso. He then stripped me of my shirt entirely. I pulled his off as well and we adjusted ourselves on the bed before he urged me up on top of him.

“Oh, baby,” Dragan moaned as I kissed circles onto his smooth chest.

He coaxed me back up and kissed my nipples, which had never been so sensitive before that night. I moaned just as he had, a deep echo of hunger for another man. 

I suddenly became very aware of my shorts and my urgent need to remove them. I tugged them off and tossed them to the floor until all that remained on my body was the briefs that I’d put on just before leaving the house to meet him. They were skintight, light blue and barely covered my now throbbing cock. Dragan pulled his shorts off as well to reveal a tight navy blue pair of briefs that happened to be the same brand as mine. They were clearly new. I liked that he shared my penchant for nice underwear. 

We rubbed our trapped hard-ons against one another, growing larger and thicker with every stroke until Dragan said, “I want to take off your undies. May I?”

I could barely contain myself. “Yes!” I gasped. 

He turned me on my side and pulled my underwear off while his tongue explored my ear. My moan was deep and guttural as his hand first ran over my bubble butt, giving my ass a firm squeeze to show who was boss, then reached around and firmly grabbed my cock. He gasped, and turned me around to see more of me.

“Oh James, you are a man in so many ways,” he exclaimed. Both of his hands were on me now. He seemed so determined to hold me there, as though he owned me and would never let me go. But I still wanted more.

“May I see yours? I asked. 

Dragan grinned. When he slid out of his briefs, there were a big, uncircumcised cock and a tight pair balls waiting for me. We marveled at the two mirrored cocks that we would get to share together. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” I said. 

“Our penises are quite similar,” said Dragan smiling, looking from him to me and back again.

It was time for me to praise the man I then knew would become my teacher in many more ways than one. I gestured for him to lean against the pillows, which he did, and laid my face on his thighs just for a moment to inhale the sweet smell he carried. I then moved up and brought his cock into my mouth. 

I was determined to show him that I was his boy, and he my master, and the best way to do this was to worship him with my tongue. 

“Oh, James,” Dragan moaned as I licked his head all over, slathering it completely before taking his cock all the way into my mouth again. I swallowed the length of this charming snake deeper and deeper before finally moving on to slick his big, beautiful balls. They tightened under the touch of my tongue and I could tell he was getting ready to cum. I looked him in the eye, holding his gaze as I made my way back down onto his cock again. He hardened even more in my mouth and coated my tongue with his sweet pre-cum. 

“Baby, can I come on your face?” Dragan asked. 

“Yes!” I cried without hesitation. 

Dragan pulled me underneath him and started stroking his cock with one hand, while the other one pressed my chest into his bed. Before I knew it, his hot, white cum was all over my face. I felt both conquered by my master and rewarded for my bravery and skill. 

Dragan rose and signaled for me to remain on the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a warm, white washcloth that he used to wipe my face clean. He wasn’t finished with me, though. Far from it. He enveloped my cock with his mouth and his fingers moved toward my boyhole, pressing gently enough not to need any lubricant at all yet. He sucked me like I had sucked him, but with a confidence and assurance from years of pleasuring men. He kissed my balls, then held them for a moment before diving back into me. 

Dragan then lowered his tongue and lifted my legs up in the air. It was time for him to do his specialty, he said to me. He dove his face deep into my boyhole, giving me a deep, sloppy rimjob that had my prostate begging for more. He held me by the hips as he ate my ass deeper and longer, giving my rosebud a generous tongue massage. I felt the nerve endings in my buttocks flare with overwhelming sensation, and just as my ass relaxed as he dove even further into me. 

Before this, I hadn’t loved the feeling of being rimmed, but now I know that being tended to by a man with a long tongue who took genuine delight in generously teasing his boy with delight it was the most pleasurable feeling. I could tell by his rising intensity that he had chosen not to break any boys in recently and that I was a special treat for him. 

Suddenly, I couldn’t hold it any longer. Dragan turned me back over and I yelped with anticipation. He pumped my cock, sliding my foreskin back and forth, and then squeezed my balls as he tugged them down. 

I cried out with pleasure, coming all over my own chest as I did so. Dragan pumping me further and further until all my juice had been drained out of me. I sat up, covered in sweat and cum. Dragan leaned in and kissed me. I looked down at my body, marked by my own arrival and that of the man who had rewarded me for worshipping him. 

Dragan was looking at me too. He seemed proud of me and proud of himself. He got up, pulled another towel out of his cabinet, and rubbed me down. 

I briefly wondered if he was going to ask me to leave then. I hoped it wasn’t the case but wasn’t sure if I was even deserving of such a blessing as more time with him. He rubbed my foot tenderly, and said to me, “Well, James, since that was just such a pleasure… Would you like to stay the night with me? It would be a waste to not treat each other to morning wood tomorrow.” 

I broke into a wide grin and nodded. Dragan threw the towel in the laundry hamper and climbed back on the bed next to me. “Baby, turn over, I want to spoon you.” 

I kissed him once more and we did just that. As I drifted off to sleep in Dragan’s arms, I was excited to know that I would taste him again in the morning and give him breakfast in bed. I had found myself a new master, and was proud to be his loyal boy again and again.

TB
Written by
Timothy Bishop

Timothy Bishop is a certified travel consultant by day and lover of tender smut. He can usually be found at your nearest red wine location.